


i stood in line for love

by captain_emmajones



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anon Prompt, Comfort, F/M, Hurt, Mutual Pining, Post 3x16, against all odds she agrees and they go sailing together, and by we i do mean i, basically Neal has just died and Killian tells Emma sailing might sooth her soul, emma is desperate to hide her feelings but its not working v well, the season 3b angst we all want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:34:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_emmajones/pseuds/captain_emmajones
Summary: Anon prompt: Killian teaches Emma how to sail. Post 3x16. Neal has just died, and Emma is mourning. Killian offers to take her sailing, doesn't except her to say yes. They both go sailing, and their mutual pining almost kills them." She made another mistake that changed their path. He had a small chuckle as she watched him from the corner of her eye, biting the interior of her mouth not to smile.“Nope, we’re going the other way, Swan,” and his hand was over hers again.It couldn’t be wrong if it felt this right, could it?"
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	i stood in line for love

**Author's Note:**

> For the anon that left me a prompt in my tumblr inbox (I'm @captain-emmajones on tumblr btw). Hope you guys will like this <3
> 
> Title and Lyrics are from The Lumineers Gale Song, that I really recommend as a background to this <3

**“What am I, if not yours? What do I do with my hands when they are just hands?” Olivia Gatwood.**

* * *

The words tickled his mouth. He had been stealing her glances for the last twenty minutes – more or less since she had been sitting in front of him, in one of Granny’s booth. She hadn’t said a word, had just landed in front of him with her cup of hot cocoa and a quick “ _’Morning, Hook.”_

The elephant in the room was quite obvious. They had buried Neal just a week ago. There was a lump in his throat because he could only guess the extent of her pain and he couldn’t help her.

She was stubbornly not looking at him, hands wrapped around her mug of hot cocoa, so near and so far away at the time. Unreachable. Her undereye area was dangerously purple and her skin pale as snow. She looked exhausted.

And still she wouldn’t reach for him. She liked better to isolate herself in her grief, and how could he blame her? She had just lost her first love.

_There was a time when I stood in line_

_For love, for love, for love_

_But I let you go, I let you go…_

He remembered clearly what it had felt like to lose Milah. Agony was still a heartbeat away, but three hundred years of practice had muffled the destructive thoughts.

To make her look up, he tried a small cough, but she was stubborn. She simply wouldn’t.

It had felt like the end of the world, losing his Milah.

Until he met her.

(It bloody wrecked him to know he was not the second chance she was hoping for. Even more to know that if he might have been, it didn’t matter. She would never jump into love again.)

“You know, Swan,” he began, suddenly feeling bolder, and her eyes might have blinked to gaze at him, but she wasn’t really there, “the boy really enjoyed sailing.” A pause, he didn’t want to scare her off. Then again, she was already avoiding him so there wasn’t much for him to lose, “Perhaps, it would be relaxing for you too.”

There, he had dropped the bomb.

His heart stopped beating at his own words. He held his breath, petrified, considered her face with a lot of caution. Watched as a myriad of emotions seemed to wash over her, although she did try her best to conceal them.

Seconds flew away and his heart seemed to shatter along with them.

Clearly, this had been a mistake. _Bloody hell, couldn’t you hold your tongue for a just a little longer, Killian—_

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

It took him a good three seconds to realize she had been talking to him, and he even glanced behind him just to make sure.

It was then a challenge for him to hold back the very frank smile that tickled his lips. In truth, he failed miserably. “Oh! Well, I am your most devoted servant whenever you feel like it, Swan.”

His heart beamed when a very timid, very small smile curved her lips. It was a brief flicker of light, but the mask of sadness was quick to reconquer her face.

She suddenly stood up. She seemed upset, and he blamed himself. He desperately wanted to say something, _anything_ , to ease the tension on her face.

He clenched his jaw, hand fisted on the table. “See you around, Hook,” she mumbled, and ran away.

He stared at the mug of hot coca in front him. She had barely touched it.

He shook his shoulders, as if to regain some composure, as if she hadn’t just stepped on his heart. He silenced his own pain with a sip of rum.

He simply couldn’t reach her. And it was killing him.

.

_Knock, knock_ ,… Who the bloody hell was knocking on his door on a Sunday at 9am? Couldn’t a pirate sleep in for just one bloody day of the week?

He surely did not expect to open his door to face a visibly embarrassed Emma Swan. She was wrapped in a big, blue coat and she looked endearing – not that he’d tell her.

“ _Oh_ , I woke you up,” she sounded almost sorry, and she took a step back, a very red hue painted over her cheeks, “I thought we could go sailing this morning but clearly you’re not—”

Instinctively, he quickly grabbed her shoulder and her eyes burned his skin. “No no, Swan!” She looked concern, mouth slightly open, and he lowered his tone to reassure her: “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be ready.”

When he closed the door behind him after a simple nod, he had to pinch himself. She came. To see him. His heart smiled. _She came._

.

She was unable to understand what had gone through her mind. She had seriously thought it a very good idea to come knocking at Captain Hook’s door on a Sunday morning at 9am and somehow expect him to know full well she would come, and to be prepared, and not to stare at her with utter shock when he opened his door, and—

“Breath, Emma, breath” she mumbled to herself, alone in the corridor.

She was going back and forth between his room and the one she shared with Henry, her thoughts racing, _this was definitely an enormous mistake_ , the bag of fresh pastries in her hand seeming suddenly absolutely ridiculous.

What was wrong with her? If anything, this looked like a goddamn date! She blinked in terror. He would never let her live this down.

She swallowed, inhaled deeply and pinched the tender skin of the palm of her hand.

_Come on, Emma. You’re not sixteen anymore and you can spend the day with your f-friend,…_

She was cut short in her anxious thoughts by Hook. He had just stepped out of his room, wearing his big, black coat.

(Nothing like the black boxers he was wearing when he had opened the door. How dare he.)

“Ready, Swan?” he attacked right away with a bright smile, and she buried her feet in the carpeted floor not to run.

She forced herself to faintly smile back.

“What took you forever?”

She cursed herself. Why did she always sound so angry when she was talking to him?

.

They made their way to the docks almost in complete silence, eating their pastries _._ He had probably looked completely baffled when she had handed him the buttery pastry, but then she had shoved it into his palm and he hadn’t dared to say anything besides _this_ _is most lovely, thank you Swan._

This winter morning was a real blessing for Hook. He loved the cold, salty sea air that filled his lungs with a very childish kind of joy.

He had tried to get her to talk, but his Swan was clearly reconsidering her decision to spend her morning with him and he was quite desperate to prove her wrong.

It really warmed his heart to think she would like to spend time with him. _To be fair, it was your offer,…_

She hadn’t glanced at him in the eye once. Instead, she was walking very steadily, hands in her pockets.

“Our vessel for the day,” he exclaimed in a smile once they had reached the ship. It was the one he had ‘borrowed’ earlier this week with the lad. 

If she was surprised to not see the Jolly Roger, she did not let it appear on her face. Instead, she nodded and offered him a small smile.

She looked adorable, with her red beanie and the same hue over her cheeks. He wasn’t bold enough to compliment her. She might have stabbed him.

Instinctively, his hand reached for her shoulder as she climbed aboard the ship. Before he could touch her, he felt her tense her muscles. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he backed away.

It hurt, in his chest.

.

Hook was a good teacher. He had a way with words. She noticed for the first time, as she was standing next to him on decks of the ship, that he had a very gentle, soothing voice.

He was guiding her hand on the ship’s wheel but did not linger there. He was holding back, she could tell, was trying to make her as comfortable as he possibly could aboard this ship.

She wondered where the Jolly Roger was, but did not dare to ask.

She understood quite quickly how to navigate the ocean, with a lot of his help of course.

The sea was indeed very calming. It distracted her from the torments of her heart, and the images of Neal’s death that were just under her eyelids. Those were exhausting her.

_You could have done more. You could have saved him._

Lost in her thoughts, she made a mistake, and he had to reach for her hand to correct the course of the boat. It absolutely did not please something deep within her.

And when she made that same mistake thirty seconds later, it really had nothing to do with the sweet heat that warmed up her chest when he was near her. It was a freezing winter morning, and she was only trying to stay warm.

She had already noticed how long and thick were his eyelashes, but there was something strangely intimate when he bended towards her to show her the direction on a map, and all she could do was stare at the serious expression on his face.

She swallowed, felt her cheeks get warmer.

“See, Swan, if we follow West we’ll be able to go back to port in no time—”

He was clearly passionate about sailing. Damn, did passion look good on him.

She made another mistake that changed their path. He had a small chuckle as she watched him from the corner of her eye, biting the interior of her mouth not to smile.

“Nope, we’re going the other way, Swan,” and his hand was over hers again.

It couldn’t be wrong if it felt this right, could it?

It wasn’t on purpose either that, after feeling him right behind her, a breath away, she caved in and tentatively rested her head against his shoulder, just a little bit, just for a few seconds… She allowed herself to close her eyes, savoring this moment of rest, and intimacy.

If he noticed, he said nothing. Instead, his hand came to squeeze her elbow.

She could hear the unsaid words. _It’s going to be okay. You will be alright. Henry will forgive you for lying to him._

And suddenly, it was far too much. Her eyes snapped open. She felt like drowning, and tears came to burn her eyes.

  
She abruptly took a step back. “I’m done with this,” she stammered, and she saw the utmost confusion in his eyes. He felt responsible, and she wanted to tell him it had nothing to do with him. She was the one who was broken beyond any repair. “You’re the captain after all, you can take the wheel,” she added, and her tone was gentler.

She spent the rest of their little trip as far as she possibly could.

It was horrendous to hear both of their hearts shatter on the ground and to be the reason of it. 

.

It was barely midday when they reached port.

She was quick to get out of the ship, was ready to run to her room, but something hold her back.

He didn’t deserve this. He deserved better.

She resolutely buried her feet in the wooden planks and waited for him to get down at his turn.

Counted backwards in her mind to silent her anxiety.

She saw relief flash in his eyes when he discovered she was still there.

“Thank you, Hook”, she whispered once he had reached her level.

She was ready to flee and never look back.

But then he was gazing at her with a lot of caution and care, and it was hard to ignore the panicked heartbeats in her chest.

“You are most welcome, Swan.” Who gave him the right to sound this gentle?

She nodded, smiled, hand fisted in her pockets. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much she was shaking.

“I’ll see you around, then,” she quickly muttered, licked her lips to hide her unease.

He gave her a nod, smiled. “Always, Swan.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He was dangerous. She had to run, to protect herself.

She risked a last look at him. “I hope so.” The words came out of her mouth without her consent, and she saw his expression change in an instant.

The frown of his eyebrows disappeared into a gentle wave of affection. His lips moved then, but no sound came out.

She took a step back, her eyes still in his. She was terrified.

When she gathered enough strength to walk away from him, she found her legs quite rigid and heavy.

.

He watched her walk away with a small smile.

She wanted him around, and the thought warmed his heart. She wanted him around even if she couldn’t bear to.

Perhaps the time would come. It didn’t matter how long it took her. He was in this for the long haul, after all.


End file.
